


Fools and Madmen

by Ruuger



Category: The Mentalist, The X-Files
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruuger/pseuds/Ruuger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You've lost someone," he whispered.   "Someone very close to you.  A sister."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Mulder crosses paths with a certain psychic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fools and Madmen

**1997**

The people gathered in the meeting room crowded closer as the man picked up the plastic bag holding the bloody knife and pressed it against his forehead.

"Yes, I think I'm getting something, a feeling. She's trying to reach me to reveal her killer." He closed his eyes. "Can you hear me, Mabel? Can you hear my voice? If you can hear me, reveal yourself. Cross over to this side, and tell us who killed you!"

Scully rolled her eyes. 

"Oh brother," she muttered, and turned to Mulder, a bored look on her face. "I'm going to go look at the autopsy report and see if I can find some _real_ evidence. You coming?"

Mulder shook his head, not taking his eyes off the psychic. "I think I'll stay and watch. Maybe he'll call Elvis next."

Scully snorted. "He's a fake. You know that, right?"

Mulder said nothing, just gave her a small dismissive wave. Scully rolled her eyes again, this time at him, and left.

Across the room the psychic was still holding the murder weapon in front of his face, his eyes unfocused as he raised his hand, almost as if reaching for something. "I see a man wearing a blue jumpsuit. He's standing in the kitchen, opening and closing the cabinets. He opens a drawer and picks up a sharp knife, and then looks at it. He-"

"Umm, excuse me?" One of the detectives hesitantly raised his hand. The entire room turned to look at him, and he lowered his hand, looking sheepish. "I- um... sorry, I- I just wanted to say that the murder weapon was a knife she used for crafts. It was kept in the hobby room."

The psychic gave him a stern look, and then turned back to his audience. "I feel negative energies that interfere with my connection to the other side. There is someone in this room, who is not a believer." 

The Stupendous Yappi turned slowly around until his eyes locked with Mulder's. His eyes narrowed for a second, and he pointed an accusing finger.

"You!"

As everyone in the room turned to stare at him, Mulder raised his hands in surrender, and walked away without a word.

Leaving Stupendous Yappi to his audience, he headed down the hall. There was no sign of Scully in the bullpens, and when he tried her phone, the line was busy. He eventually found himself in the small room at the end of the corridor that had been turned into a temporary canteen. There was a small kitchenette in the corner, and several thermoses filled with coffee and tea were lined up on a narrow table. Mulder grabbed a paper cup from the pile and made his way to the coffee thermoses.

"You don't believe in psychics, do you?"

Mulder had assumed that he was alone, and was startled when he heard a voice from behind him. It was only when he turned around that he noticed the man leaning to the wall across the room. 

The man was several years younger and few inches shorter than Mulder himself. He was wearing a shiny white suit that probably looked more expensive than it actually was, and his dark blond hair was neatly slicked back. He pushed himself away from the wall, picked up one of the thermoses and poured himself a cup of tea. "Or you do believe, just not in our stupendous friend over there."

He took a sip of the tea and made a face. "Oh dear, I do hope the coffee is better."

Mulder poured himself a cup of coffee as he studied the man. There was something curious about him. It was clear from the way that he was dressed that he wasn't a cop, but he had a confident air about him that suggested he wasn't one of the victim's family members either. He had a laminated badge hanging from a lanyard around his neck, just like everyone else at the station, but it had turned the wrong way around, hiding his name.

"Are you with the press?"

The man smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm one of the, uh, 'consultants'-" He made air quotes around the word. "-invited by the family." 

Mulder leaned to the table and tasted his coffee. It wasn't any better than the tea. "So, who did it?"

The man's smile widened. "Unfortunately it doesn't work that way. The spirits of the dead aren't at our beck and call, no matter what Mister Yappi and his kind may claim. They need to want to help us, Agent Mulder."

Mulder did a double take. "How did-"

The man tapped his badge, reminding Mulder of the one he himself was wearing.

"Sometimes, it's enough just to pay attention. But do I hope that you keep an open mind, in spite of people like Mister Yappi."

He poured his tea into the sink and headed out, but paused at the door. "Oh. Do you happen to have the time?"

Mulder glanced at his watch. "Three twenty-six."

The man smiled again, but this time there was a warmth in the expression that hadn't been there before. "I have to go and call my wife, then. She's having an ultrasound today. I was supposed to go with her, but then this thing came up and she had to go alone." He looked at Mulder, his smile widening. "It's our first child."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you." The man man remained in the doorway for a few more seconds, looking thoughtful, and then returned to the room. He held out his hand. 

"My name is Patrick Jane. I have a feeling we'll meet again, Agent Mulder."

"Did the spirits tell you that?"

Jane said nothing, just gave him another smile and slipped out of the room.

* * *

Four hours later, Mulder found himself back in the meeting room with Scully by his side. Across the room, one of Yappi's colleagues was now desperately trying to explain why he'd mistaken a pen dropped by one of the detectives for a vital piece of evidence.

"Now _that_ was a waste of time." Scully gave him a pleading look. "Can we go now? Please?"

Mulder shrugged. He'd known from the start that there had been nothing paranormal about the death of Mabel Jennings, but when he'd heard that the dead woman's family had recruited an army of psychics to help find the killer, he'd requested for the case to be transferred to the X-Files in the hope that at least one of the mediums would turn out to be the real deal. However, to his great disappointment, all he'd seen was a parade of con artists and lunatics, with varying amount of skill and entertainment value.

They were just descending the stairs in front of the police station when Mulder spotted Jane standing by a coffee cart on the street below. Jane gave him a cheerful smile when he noticed them, and climbed back up the stairs to meet them. 

"Ah, Agent Mulder. I told you we would meet again." He turned to Scully, his smile only widening. "And you must be Agent Mulder's partner." He held out his hand. "Patrick Jane."

"Dana Scully." Scully's expression was neutral, but Mulder knew her well enough to know that she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the Jane's attempt to charm her. When she let go of Jane's hand, she gave Mulder a questioning look.

"Mr. Jane is one of the psychics helping with the case," Mulder explained.

Ignoring the skeptical look that he knew Scully would be giving him, he turned to Jane again. "Any divine visions, Mr. Jane?"

"Ah, alas no. Like I said, the spirits need to be willing to talk to us, and Mabel does not seem to be in a talkative mood."

They'd been making their way down the stairs as they talked, but as they reached the final step, Jane stumbled over his own feet, reflexively grabbing a hold of Mulder's arm to keep his balance. As he did so, his eyes suddenly widened and he let out a gasping breath, his knees buckling as he went down hard. Mulder barely had enough time to grab a hold of Jane's arms to stop him from falling face-down on the asphalt. 

"Hey, you OK?" Mulder asked, still holding on to Jane.

Jane said nothing, just stared at Mulder. His face was deathly pale and his breath was coming out in shallow gasps, almost as if he was in shock. As Mulder helped Jane sit down on the stairs, he couldn't help wondering if against all evidence Jane had somehow managed to hit his head after all. 

"Scully?" he asked, turning to her.

Scully was already kneeling down next to Jane. She stook his hand and pressed her fingers against Jane's wrist.

"You need to take deep breaths, Mr. Jane, and try to calm yourself down," she said, frowning. "Your heart is beating very fast, and I think you might be hyperventilating."

"Scully, stay with him," Mulder said. "I'll get him a paper bag or something."

He made to leave, but Jane gripped his sleeve to stop him, clinging on to it like a drowning man clinging to his saviour. 

"You've lost someone," he whispered. "Someone very close to you." He again gasped for breath, and his eyes unfocused as he tightened his grip on Mulder's arm. "A sister. I can almost... oh. Oh. Yes, I hear you." For a second he was very still, not even breathing, but then he looked up, a hint of tears in his eyes. "She wants you to know that she forgives you, Fox. Samantha is at peace, and she forgives you." 

Mulder froze, his heart skipping a beat at Jane's words.

"How did you-"

But Jane just shook his head, finally releasing his grip of Mulder's arm. He was breathing normally again, and the color was already returning to his face. 

Mulder was about to ask him again how he'd known about Samantha, but Jane raised his arm to silence him. "Wait! Samantha wants me to tell you that Mabel is also here. She's still too weak to speak for herself, but your sister tells me that she was killed by her husband. There's evidence, and she can show me where to find it."

Mulder glanced at Scully. Her expression was blank, but there was a tightness to her lips and her arms were crossed in front of her. He knew that Scully thought the man was a fraud, but Mulder knew he had no choice but to give Jane the benefit of the doubt. If there was even the slightest chance that he might be telling the truth...

He slipped his arm around Jane and helped him stand up.

"C'mon. Let's go back inside and you can tell me what you know."

* * *

**2007**

In hindsight, he probably should have just made a run for it when the police arrived.

Mulder tried to make himself appear as innocent as possible under the scrutiny of the CBI agent who was seated the other side of the small table. Based the expression on the face of Agent Cho, Mulder could tell that he wasn't doing a very good job so far. The interrogation had not even begun yet, but he could already feel himself cracking under the agent's unwavering stare. It was almost as if the man had some weird supernatural powers that made you want to confess. Maybe he did.

The third person in the room was a man who had not introduced himself, and who Mulder had mentally dubbed as the Three Piece Suit Man. Like his colleague, Three Piece Suit Man had not said a word, and had spent the last few minutes simply watching Mulder with a small smile, as if he found the whole thing extremely entertaining. There was something familiar about the man, but Mulder couldn't put his finger on where he might have seen him before. As he continued his staring contest with Agent Cho, Mulder idly wondered if the Three Piece Suit Man might have been an escaped member of The Syndicate, or some other government agent he might have crossed paths with before. But if the man recognised Mulder in return, he hadn't shown it.

When the door suddenly opened, both Mulder and Agent Cho reflexively turned towards it, but from the corner of his eye, Mulder noticed that Three Piece Suit Man had not done the same, and instead just continued to watch him. The person to arrive was the woman who'd earlier introduced herself as Agent Lisbon, and who quite obviously was in charge of the whole thing. She nodded her head, and Agent Cho pushed back his chair and left the room. Three Piece Suit Man didn't move at first, but Agent Lisbon glared at him until he followed Agent Cho out.

Agent Lisbon took a seat opposite to Mulder and looked him in the eye, her expression a combination of disappointment and annoyance. 

"It would seem that you're in luck. I managed to get a hold of this Doctor Scully of yours, and she confirms your alibi." It was obvious from her face that she didn't believe for a second that Scully had been telling the truth. Which, of course, she hadn't been. 

"So I'm free to go?"

Agent Lisbon's expression didn't change. "Yes," she said, "For now. But I would advise you not to leave the city." She was about to say something more but was interrupted by her phone ringing. She glanced at the caller ID and then let out a small growl accompanied by a roll of her eyes. "Excuse me for a moment," she said, and slipped out of the room.

A moment later door opened again, but instead of Agent Lisbon, it was the Three Piece Suit Man who stepped inside. He was carrying a teacup and a sandwich on a plate, which he put down on the table before pulling a chair for himself. He smiled at Mulder.

"Can I hold your hand?" he asked, and then wrapped his fingers around Mulder's wrist without waiting for an answer.

Mulder frowned, fighting the urge to pull his hand away. "Is this _Candid Camera_? Is Peter Funt going to walk through that door next?"

The man's smile only widened. "I know you didn't kill the man even though you were found next to his body, so no need to worry. I'm just curious. Why did you lie about your name?"

Mulder began to object, but the man just waved his hand dismissively. 

"You don't look like a George to me, Mister Hale, although it wouldn't surprise me if you'd seen an elf or two in your time. You seem like the type."

The sense of deja-vu was back again, but it took Mulder a few more seconds to connect the face with the memory. 

"You're the psychic who contacted my sister."

The smug smile disappeared from the man's face, and he let go of Mulder's hand. He stared Mulder for a few seconds, frowning. 

"Agent Mulder?" He finally said.

"I didn't know the CBI had psychics on its payroll."

"There's no such thing as psychics," Jane said, almost reflexively. "And I didn't contact your sister. " He gave Mulder a wry smile. "She forgives you, she's in peace, blah blah blah. Does that sound familiar?"

"But how did you-"

"Know about your sister? They did already have the internet back then, you know. I called a friend and asked him to look you up. Turns out you were quite the celebrity, Spooky." He made a dismissive gesture. "As for the murder, it was quite obvious that the poor woman's husband had killed her, if you just bothered to look closely enough." 

Mulder's jaw tightened as he reined his anger. He had to remind himself that it would be a very bad move to punch the man. For one, Scully would probably kill him if he got himself thrown into jail again. "Why? Why did you do it?"

"Because I was bored of rich society ladies who wanted me to contact their dead husbands and chihuahuas. Because I wanted to do something else, and catching murderers sounded exciting. But cops tend to get suspicious if you just walk up to the police station and tell them where the body is hidden. What I needed was to find someone gullible enough to vouch for me." 

He tilted his head and looked Mulder in the eye. "And that's where you came in, Agent Mulder. From the way you behaved with the psychics, it was clear that you had lost someone very close to you, and that you believed in the afterlife even though you were dismissive of Yappi. You were the perfect sucker."

"So it was all an act? The fainting, the pregnant wife, the whole thing."

To Mulder's surprise, Jane looked taken aback at his words. "No, she- I didn't-" He quickly looked away before continuing, and Mulder could tell that he was struggling to control his voice. "Telling you about my wife was a quick way to determine if it was a wife or a child you had lost." Jane smiled again, but the smile was darker somehow than it had been before, almost threatening. "It's almost funny, you know. If it hadn't been for your good word, the SacPD would never have asked me to help them catch Red John."

Mulder was confused by the non sequitur at first, but then he remembered the news about a celebrity psychic whose family Red John had butchered. His shock at the realisation must have been obvious on his face, because Jane let out a small humourless laugh.

When he spoke, for the briefest moment there was a flash of something in Jane's eyes that Mulder could only describe as madness.

"Yes. Looks like we both got exactly what we wanted."

At that moment the door of the interrogation room opened to reveal Agent Lisbon. She was clearly angry, her arms crossed in front of her as she stood in the doorway.

"Jane! Care to explain why I just got a call from the AG's office, asking why we're suspecting Addison?" She did a double-take when she saw Mulder. "Why are you still here? Why is he still here?" She leaned out the door. "Cho! Why is Mr. Hale still in the interrogation room, and why is Jane with him? I told you he wasn't allowed to talk to suspects alone after what happened with the Hoffman case."

Jane raised his hands in supplication, his expression again that of mild amusement without even a hint of the darkness that had been visible just a few seconds earlier. He made to follow Lisbon out of the room, but paused at the door, turning back to Mulder.

"Goodbye, Mr. Hale," he said. "And good luck with your elfs."


End file.
